Duck Lake renəˌsäns

Since Swift could walk and in some ways even before that, he had shown himself to have an intrepid independence that was eager to explore his world and hunt all the living creatures that roamed it. He spent most of his time off on his own, but Katla had been his companion when he wanted her to be. She had been the subject of his impish torments, his prey when he practiced his stalking and pouncing, and she had been someone to tug sticks and race around with. She had always been there when he returned to his family.

He missed her.

In the wake of the pack meeting, Swiftlet's feelings of loss and loneliness only worsened. He kept away from everyone and sulked, and scarcely even ate. Though his parents were leaders, he had felt entirely apart from the pack that day — an outsider looking in on a world he did not belong to; a world that belonged to the pups of Kvarsheim's former monarchs, built on a legacy he did not care about by wolves he didn't know.

Most if not all the blame fell on his shoulders even if he didn't realize it. Swift had made no effort to connect with his packmates, he had invested neither in their culture nor history, and despite his early hunting prowess he had contributed nothing to the community. Nonetheless, it had wounded him deeply to feel so inconsequential and alone while standing amongst them, and he was greener than his eyes with envy of Kristjan and his littermates.

Kristjan. The boy had made Swift feel noticed and welcome and on several occasions Swift thought to seek his companionship. But he never did. Gradually, he resumed his solo excursions beyond the territory, returning more and more infrequently and for shorter periods of time. With his parents distracted by their search elsewhere, there was little connecting him to the circle of stones and those who remained within it.

There then came a day when he did not return at all.

The spring thaw was beginning, bringing beautifully clear skies and a sun that was feeling warmer and warmer on his back. Swift shook off his sullenness with the help of new hunting opportunities and new games to play. Fragile ice at the shore of a lake made for one of the latter. He had discovered it produced wonderful cracking noises underfoot. So, he had taken to stomping it with his forepaws, smashing what he could and laughing every time he was greeted by icy water splashing in his face.

On the opposite shoreline, a small herd of elk who had come to drink curiously watched the young wolf's raucous gamboling.

Sven had realized too late that he had handled Swift badly. Especially when the boy had left. And guilt had eaten him. His mother and father had always taught him in the short time his fadir was with them to apologize when he was wrong. 

And he had wanted too, but Swift kept leaving until finally one day he didn't come back. Sven had waited and worried and with fear in his heart he had set out for the boy.

There was an air of hurriedness to him. Sven was always in a hurry. Rambunctious and a little wild, but there was a different type of hurry to his paws now.

A strange cracking noise drew his attention. And also curled his ears to his skull a little. He went slowly towards it. Finally seeing Swift a d breathing a sigh of relief.

He chuffed loud enough to be heard, but kept his stance open and a little unsure. He still owed him an apology after all.

It would have been a tragedy had Swift been born not only with a substantial intolerance for boredom but also an inability to entertain himself. It was fortunate that was not the case for him and any who found themselves in his orbit. Though some might argue otherwise given his talent for finding trouble or getting up to mischief.

Lost  in play, careless of his surroundings and with his ears full of the sound of cracking ice, Swiftlet did not notice Sven approaching and may not have even heard the chuff had he not looked up at that moment to glance across the lake. He turned his head, and immediately his tongue-lolling grin snapped shut as his eyes found the other boy.

Swift glowered. He had not forgiven Sven for his remarks that day.

What do you want?

In a way Sven admired Swift. He knew his own mind and had a plan. A flawed plan. But one none the less. Sven himself had more of a general direction he wanted to go in and whether he got there reckless or not was to be determined.

His glacial glare was enough to make Sven feel small. But he was a son of stone. So he didn't shrink. 

He spoke. I didn't know where you were and was worried. And um.

Sven shifted his paws. I owe you an apology. I spoke carelessly and didn't take your feelings or thoughts into consideration. So I am sorry. því miður

Sven's posture was not enough to convince Swift that he was here on kind terms. The assumption that his packmate had only come to ruin his fun then only morphed into an uncertain suspicion as Sven told him he had been worried and apologized for upsetting him at the meeting. Swiftlet was silent at length as he puzzled.

After a few moments his mien relaxed and opened, offering a glimpse of rising willingness to accept this apology, but it was still writ on his face that he was disbelieving and suspicious. Swift sat and leaned toward Sven, peering intently as he asked a question that had begun to burn. 

Did my mother send you?

Sven was willing to look sorry and he was indeed sorry. But a sense of prode demanded he not bow and beg. That was untoward. He was humble not meek.

Swift stared at him with a look of open wary suspicion and Sven was unsure what else he could do to or say. Though the n3xt question surprised him.

He shook his head. No. I uh have not talked to any adults other than Skald in sometime.

And he hadn't he had mostly well all the kids if the stone circle had in a way been on their own. Their parents a bit relaxed in their parenting.

Hmm. Swift considered the answer with a hum. Still peering. Still suspicious. He leaned forward a little bit more and searched for a lie in Sven's grey eyes. But he found he believed his packmate. That his mother had not insisted Sven apologize and that actually no one had. Sven was truly sorry and had sought to make amends on his own.

It was still strange to Swiftlet that Sven cared at all but he accepted it. Ok! He chirped, rolling his shoulders and turning back toward the ice with a wag of his tail. The matter of business thoroughly cast aside.

Scooping up a large chunk of ice in his jaws, Swift glanced over his shoulder toward Sven before trotting down the shoreline in the direction of the elk, who had already moseyed on.

Sven backed up a little. Eyes wide as Swift stared at him with suspicion. His ears laying back unsure. Sven didn't know how to handle Swift as his brother did. But he was trying that spoke for something right?

Was it? Was it that easy? Swift seemed to take it and just move on. Sven held up a paw unsure. He rubbed at his cheek thinking hard. That had to be too easy right? For real? Astrid never forgave like that. 

Did he want company? Should Sven ask? He cleared his throat. Uh do you want company? Or?

He looked back the way he had come. He could go back. He had set out to apologize and had done so. He didn't need to do much else did he? But it would be nice to make more friends. Sven didn't have many.

He made to answer without breaking stride or without a second glance back. N— But the movement of his tongue and jaw caused the ice to slip. Swift awkwardly tried to recover it but the attempt was unsuccessful. He lowered his head to let it slip out onto the ground before it dropped and broke. No one's stopping you, he answered nonchalantly before rolling the ice chunk with a paw and picking it back up again.

Swift's mind was focused on the elk. With his makeshift toy secure once more between his teeth, he resumed his track toward them determined to see where they were going and if there was any opportunity for entertainment there.

Sven watched with curious eyes as Swift stopped to lower the ice to the ground. There was a strangeness to the boys movements. And Sven found he really wanted to know why the other was so intent upon carrying that ice?

Sven looked back towards home one more time and then without a second thought. He raced after the other boy. His long strides breaking up dirt and it skittered underneath his paws. But he was anxious to catch up and not be left behind.

The elk had not been hurried but had gained a lot of ground nonetheless thanks to their long and powerful limbs. They were not to be seen when the pair reached their myriad tracks at the edge of the lake, which lead the small herd up into the treeline.

Swift lowered the ice block to the ground.

Have you ever hunted elk? He asked, glancing away from the trail ahead to Sven.

Sven followed behind Swift with wide eyes. Taking in the area and once he caught sight of the Elk. He gave a soft oof in both awe and wariness. They were huge, like tanked beasts. Burly and broad. Huge antlers on their heads. Their breath coming out in waves of mist. Monsters.

Sven felt a shaking in his paws, but he moved closer to Swift. He'd protect this wolf too if it came down to it. 

A shake of his head. He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. No Fadir and Germ says you need more than 2 to hunt Elk. Take whole pack.

Pfft. That wasn't going to stop him. Rebellious, he had no inclination whatsoever to abide the rule set by two wolves who had no meaning to him, and at the same time he had all the arrogance and recklessness to want to prove them wrong besides.

Swiftlet picked up his ice again and moved toward the herd, his eyes dancing between the sprawl of chew-toys they wore for a crown and the hundreds of pounds of meat on their bones. But, perhaps fortunately for him and Sven, the elk were in no mood to entertain two young predators. They snorted and stomped and once again put distance between them and the wolves.

He and Sven closed on them twice more to the same result, and Swiftlet grew frustrated with the soft snow hamstringing them while the elk sliced through it on their longer legs. He gave up the chase and abandoned what was left of his melting and crumbling ice block too.

Eh, whatever. I'll get them later. Swiftlet shrugged. I'm going to go find more ice. See-ya, Sven! With that, he left his former packmate unceremoniously to pursue quarry of a non-running (and non-breathing) variety.